Magic in Time
by EchoGirl319
Summary: When one of Merlin's spells goes wrong, Arthur and Gwen's children are sent back in time to the perilous early months of Arthur's reign. How will they cope in a land where magic is banned and their mother is exiled? Will they ever get home? Set post 4x09.
1. A Spell Gone Wrong

**Echo: So, I know I have another Merlin story, _The Dragon Child, _which requires updating but I've had this idea in my head for a long time and, after seeing 4x09, I just felt it was ready to come out.**

**Goldfish: Indeed.**

**Echo: Indeed. Well, you can do the disclaimer.**

**Goldfish: EchoGirl319 does not own Merlin, it belongs to the BBC.**

**Echo: Unfortunately...**

* * *

><p><strong>Magic in Time<strong>

**Chapter 1**

**~ A Spell Gone Wrong ~**

Seren Pendragon, second child and only daughter of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere and princess of Camelot, sat on the cushioned stool at her vanity in her private chambers, wincing in pain as her maidservant, Ariana, forced her hair into an elaborate up-do.

"Ah," she gasped, digging her nails into the wood of the stool as the young girl standing behind her dragged the brush once more over her head, catching several knotted strands on the way. Her maidservant shot her an apologetic smile through the mirror.

"Sorry, my lady," she said, gathering the long curls in her coarse, pale hands and reaching for a band lying on the vanity to tie them with. Seren made a face; her hair was done far too tightly and it pulled at her scalp. She was going to be in agony by the end of the evening.

"Can't we go for something a little looser?" she pleaded, watching in the mirror as Ariana began to braid the golden locks. The slightly older girl smirked.

"You're the one that wanted this style," she reminded her, "now, your highness, please sit still and let me finish."

Seren sighed in defeat and resigned herself to a night of torture and headaches.

An hour and a half later and Ariana was finally finished. From her window, Seren could see the sky taking on an indigo hue and bright silver dots of starlight appearing as they took their places to decorate the heavens. It was a beautiful evening. Seren turned to face herself in the full-length mirror. She had to admit that Ariana had done a good job, despite how uncomfortable it was, her hair looked lovely: her blonde locks were gathered in a tight knot at the back of her head then separated and braided down to the small of her back; only two small sections of hair were left out to frame her face and they too were braided, both just brushing her collar bone. The whole thing was kept in place by diamond pins and tiny purple flowers had been slipped into the elaborate braids.

She was dressed in her finest, least worn gown, pale blue velvet with a short train and long, wide sleeves which parted in the torso and skirt to reveal a lilac layer underneath. Around her neck was a glittering diamond necklace from which dangled a small, golden dragon, her family emblem, which had been a gift from her parents for her thirteenth birthday three months passed. Smiling shyly, she ran her hands over the luxurious velvet of her gown, smoothing out the invisible creases.

"You look lovely, Seren," Ariana told her as she looked on, thoroughly pleased with the work. Seren spun round and embraced her.

"Thank you, Ari!" she exclaimed happily, releasing her maid. "You should take the evening off," she advised, "and go spend time with your family; I won't be needing you again tonight."

Ariana looked doubtful but Seren smiled, placing her hands on her hips: "I think I can undress myself. The feast won't be over 'til later anyway."

Ariana nodded gratefully, she was always busy working in the palace and didn't get to spend enough time with her parents and sisters, Seren appreciated this. "Thank you, your highness."

"I'm going to find my brothers," she announced before rolling her eyes, "they're probably not ready yet and the feast starts in half an hour."

She turned and headed for the door, leaving Ariana to tidy away the various hair products and the dress she had been wearing earlier.

Tonight was the anniversary of the union of Albion and all the leaders of the various territories were coming to Camelot to celebrate with a magnificent feast hosted by her father, King Arthur. There would be food, entertainment, magic displays; it was Seren's favourite celebration by far. Last year Merlin had made all the food fly about the great hall and her father had ended up with two carrots tap dancing on his head.

Laughing out loud as she remembered the look on the king's face, Seren passed by a group of gossiping noblewomen and approached her younger brother's room. She entered without knocking and saw that ten-year-old Amhar was already dressed, with their mother just smoothing down his hair. Of all the royal children, Amhar was the one that looked most like the queen, whilst Seren only had her mother's dark eyes and curls, Amhar and Guinevere shared nearly every feature: they have the same round, open faces, dark brown hair and eyes. He was slightly darker skinned than the rest of his siblings, who had mainly taken after their father but whose skin still retained an exotic, bronzy hue.

Both mother and son turned at the sound of the heavy wooden door creaking open. Seren entered.

"Mother," she acknowledged. Gwen smiled softly and approached her only daughter, taking her face in her hands. Seren had long grown used to the strange coarseness of her mother's hands, rough from her years working as a servant and a blacksmiths daughters, most noblewomen had smooth hands like Seren's own, proof of their easy and luxurious existence. Yet Seren liked her mother's hands, strangely enough, and even had some odd, far-fetched desire to also have rough hands, like her mother or father or the servants or like her brother's would have, proof that her life had had some meaning, a purpose. She dismissed her mental rambling and instead focused on the queen, who had bent down to kiss her forehead.

"You look beautiful," Gwen told her, "just wait a few years and you'll have all the young men of Albion chasing after you."

Seren grinned: "Father told me he'd pull Excalibur on them if they even tried."

Gwen laughed and stepped back just as Amhar came bounded forwards.

"I'll defend you too!" the boy exclaimed. "No man will dare bother my sister while I'm around."

Seren folded her arms and groaned. "Between you, Father and Llacheu, I'll end up an old maid."

"Just the way I like it," another voice sounded from the doorway. Seren turned to see her father entering the room, fully dressed in his chainmail and red cloak bearing the Pendragon emblem, crown atop his head. Seren rolled her eyes. Arthur walked forwards, offering her a teasing smile and ruffling her brother's hair before going to stand next to his wife.

"The dignitaries have all arrived," he told her, "they're waiting in the throne room."

"Then we should greet them," Gwen replied, linking her arm with his.

"Where are Llacheu and Gwydre?" Arthur asked, glancing about the room as if he were expecting his two remaining sons to be hiding in behind the bed or the screen. Not a foolish thought, Llacheu was notorious throughout the castle as prankster and made a habit of trying to corrupt his little brothers.

Gwen frowned, her face scrunching up slightly as she tried to remember. "I think Gwydre wanted to visit Merlin and Gaius and Llacheu went with him."

"I'll go check," Seren offered.

"Me too," Amhar added. Neither of them had seen Merlin at all that day.

"Alright," Arthur said, "we'll see you in the great hall when the feast begins, and remember to bring the idiot with you; I can't have him being late again."

Seren and Amhar nodded, remembering the last time Merlin had had to make a speech and he had kept everyone waiting twenty minutes because he had tripped in the courtyard and fallen into the well. The two siblings exited the room together and made their way down the stairs towards the physician's quarters.

Both knew why they hadn't seen much of Merlin lately. It was because of Gaius. He was an old man now, over ninety and it was amazing that he'd lived this long but his time was coming and the greatest warlock the world had ever seen was trying to do whatever he could to stop it. No one had the heart to tell him that it was pointless, everything had their time. Not even Merlin could stop death.

The main room was covered in open books and phials of strange concoctions that Seren didn't recognise. Gaius was sitting in his chair, half-asleep, whilst Gwydre, who at six years old was the youngest Pendragon, sat, dressed ready for the feast in a dark blue tunic, on the bed nearby, watching the old physician with wide, bright blue eyes. Merlin was standing over something in the middle of the room that was bubbling incessantly and releasing purple smoke at regular intervals. Llacheu was wearing his chainmail and leaning against the door, watching the strange substance with a vaguely concerned look in his eye.

"Father wants us to go to the great hall for the feast," Seren announced. Llacheu kicked off against the wall and ran a hand through his short chestnut coloured hair.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"After dusk," she informed him.

Llacheu was the eldest, closely followed by herself, there was only a year's age difference between them, and the heir to the throne of Camelot and all of Albion. He had already begun his knight's training and had gotten into the habit of constantly carrying his sword around with him. She glanced over at Amhar, he'd soon be starting his training as well and Gwydre had already shown great advancement in his own special abilities. Soon she'd be left alone, expected to do womanly stuff whilst her brothers protected the kingdom, whether it was with a sword or with magic.

Needless to say, it had been a great shock to the royal family when their youngest child had begun showing traces of magic, especially considering the firm stance her grandfather, Uther, and her father, early on in his reign, had taken on it. Of course, Merlin had been over the moon, and the magical community had definitely been more comfortable in Camelot after discovering the king's youngest son possessed magic. The only one not pleased by the news had been her estranged aunt, but the witch Morgana was not someone Seren wanted to think about.

Gwydre hopped eagerly down from the bed and ran over to his sister holding out his palm.

"Seren," he exclaimed gleefully, "look what I can do!"

For a second his eyes turned gold and a small flame flickered in the centre of his hand.

"Wow, cool!" Amhar murmured, leaning in to get a better look at it.

"Did Merlin show you that?" Seren asked and Gwydre nodded, grinning widely.

"So are we going to the feast?" he inquired, extinguishing the flame and grabbing the princess' hand.

"Yep," she replying, waiting for Llacheu to come over. He did. She looked over at Merlin who was still leaning over his mysterious concoction. She glanced at the old Gaius who was now fast asleep and felt a stab of pity.

"Merlin?" she said gently, "Father wants you at the feast too. He said he'd have your head otherwise."

Merlin smirked still not looking up from the bubbling substance.

"Oh, he can't afford to get rid of me."

"I don't think that would stop him putting you in the stocks, though," Llacheu piped up. At last Merlin looked up at the royal children and, for the first time in weeks, genuinely smiled. It seemed the sight of the four of them could always bring a happy expression to his face. They represented all he had fought so hard for: Albion was united, Arthur was king, Gwen was queen, magic was legal once more and Morgana and Mordred had been relatively quiet (something which he knew would not last, but it was nice to get some peace).

"Alright," he conceded, "just a moment." He looked over at Gaius. "I'm sure I've got it this time."

He leaned once more over his work and said something in the ancient, magical tongue, his eyes glowing golden as the purple smoke suddenly turned green and blew not towards Gaius but towards the four young Pendragons.

"What the-?" Llacheu exclaimed as they were suddenly surrounded in lime-coloured mist. Seren gasped loudly as her vision turned white and Merlin stared in wide-eyed horror as Arthur and Gwen's children vanished before his very eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Echo: So: bad, good, what do you think? Should I keep going?<strong>

**Goldfish: You could always crawl in a hole and die, at last allowing me to fulfill my ambitions of conquering the earth.**

**Echo: It's nice to know you care so much for my wellbeing.**

**Goldfish: Welcome. Now, REVIEW! Or die...**

**Echo: Manners, Goldfish.**


	2. Surprises

**Echo: Wow, great feedback! I'm really pleased people like this story.**

**Goldfish: You're pleased if anyone like any story of yours.**

**Echo: So? Anyway, here's the next chapter. If I'm honest, this chapter I didn't really like to write all that much. Of all the time travel stories I've written, it's always these chapters that annoy me the most so you're going to have to tell me if I did it okay.**

**Goldfish: EchoGirl319 does not own Merlin.**

* * *

><p><strong>Magic in Time<strong>

**Chapter 2**

**~ Surprises ~**

It was a cold, grim evening in Camelot. The sky was dark, the moon was in hiding and the castle was cold, the air within its walls thick with heartbreak and regret. The council was session and several men were gathered around a large oak table with two of the land's esteemed knights, Sir Leon and Sir Gwaine, and old physician and the king's manservant standing near the foot. The room was unusually quiet and dim, lit only by a few, meagre lamps – for some reason the king had refused to allow any candles to be lit – and there was a slight draft sneaking in through one of the large, stained glass windows. One of the older advisors sitting about half-way down the left side of the table shivered and glanced over at the young, and frankly rather depressed-looking, sovereign.

Just as Arthur opened his mouth and was about to speak, a bright white light suddenly appeared over the centre of the table. All the occupants of the room stared at it with wide surprised eyes. It wasn't until it started to grow larger that people came to their senses and began to hurriedly push out their chairs or step back, away from the strange and potentially dangerous beam.

As quickly as it appeared it vanished and four bodies suddenly hit the large, wooden table with a resounding thud. Nobody moved until a muffled groan was emitted from heap. Then chaos broke out.

"What was that?" someone demanded.

"Who are they?" another asked.

"This has to be magic!"

"How else would it have happened?"

It was Lord Agravaine de Bois', the king's uncle's, voice that rose above the mutterings.

"Silence!" the dark-haired man called. The muttering stopped. He looked over at the king before addressing the physician. "What is this, Gaius?"

"Some people lying on a table?" Merlin suggested, his voice cheery though, like everyone else, he eyed the seemingly unconscious newcomers with suspicion. Arthur sighed.

"Merlin, now's not the time for jokes."

By this time Gaius had stepped forward and was observing the mysterious new arrivals, though he did not touch them. Upon getting a closer look at them, the elderly man's eyes widened in surprise.

"Sire," he called to Arthur, "they appear to be children."

"Children?" Arthur repeated as he and Merlin stepped forward, closely flanked by Leon and Gwaine. Sure enough, it was the forms of four children that lay there, spread out on the table. The youngest, who was lying in the arms of the only female of the group, didn't appear to be much older than five or six.

"Yep," Gwaine said, "they sure look like a bunch of little noble brats to me."

"The question is," Agravaine interrupted irritably, "_where did they come from?"_

"And how they got here," Leon added. At that moment the eldest one, a boy in his early adolescence with a mop of short brown hair began to stir. His eyes slowly opened, revealing themselves to be a bright shade of blue, and he frowned, suddenly clutching at his head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing the spot where his head had hit the wood before trying to lift himself up off the table. Unfortunately, there was another boy sprawled across his back, preventing his movements. He looked up at the still-unconscious other boy and glared.

"Amhar," he snarled, rolling over slightly to dislodge the younger boy, "get off!"

Finally, once he was on his hands and knees, he looked around.

"The council chambers?" he muttered. "What am I doing here?"

"Just what we would like to know," Agravaine spat, watching the teenager with narrowed eyes. Llacheu turned slightly to face him and, were the situation not so serious, Merlin would have laughed at the way the boy's eyes suddenly bulged and his lower jaw dropped.

"Wait a second," he said, "you're-"

But whatever he had been about to say was interrupted as the girl's fingers twitched and her own eyes began to flicker open. Her hair, the young warlock noticed, which was long, blonde and very elaborately braided, was decorated with tiny, glittering jewels and purple flowers. Her gown also looked incredibly fine. Gwaine was right when he'd stated that these children were of noble stock.

"Llacheu?" she asked, clearly addressing the older boy as she began to sit up, putting all her weight on one arm as she kept her hold on the little, golden-haired boy.

"Seren," the boy, 'Llacheu', his name apparently was, responded, still not looking away from Agravaine, "I don't think we're in Camelot anymore."

"Llacheu?" the girl repeated, her face paling dramatically as she looked over at the crowd of councillors, knights, physician, servant and monarch.

"I assure you," Arthur told them, "this is Camelot."

"Yeah, but it sure ain't our Camelot," Llacheu replied. He seemed to have overcome his shock and was now fixing Agravaine with a look of intense dislike.

"What do mean?" the young king demanded. Llacheu tensed and finally turned his gaze away from Agravaine, instead choosing to share an frantic glance with the girl, who bit her lower lip, her anxiety clear on her pretty face.

"Um…"

It was at this moment the little boy in her arms decided to awaken. He moaned quietly and blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. He squirmed in the girl's grip until she released him and he stood up. He wasn't very tall, Merlin noted, and if he wasn't standing on the table his head wouldn't even reach the warlock's waist. It was probably come up to a few inches above his knee. He looked around, his brow scrunched up in confusion. It wasn't until his gaze settled on Arthur that the boy's face suddenly seemed to light up entirely – the king on the other hand looked rather uncomfortable.

"Gwydre!" the girl called too late as the little boy leapt off the table, using the momentum to propel himself forwards and threw his small arms around Arthur's neck, his body nearly knocking the king off-balance as it slammed into his chest. Reflexively, Arthur's arms wrapped around the boy, preventing him from falling.

Gwaine smirked: "looks like you've found a friend."

Arthur, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, shot a meaningful glare in the knight's direction just as the six-year-old buried his face in the hollow between Arthur's neck and shoulder, happily addressed as "Papa". Needless to say, this time Arthur did drop the boy, who surprisingly landed on his feet. Immediately, the girl sprang from where she had been sitting on the table to stand protectively beside him. Llacheu did the same, so both were flanking the child. By this point the third boy had also woken up and was standing, looking down at the table.

"A square table?" he murmured out loud but nobody was paying attention; they were all to busy staring at the boy who'd effectively just declared Arthur his father.

"Excuse me?" the king asked after a moment.

Merlin was torn between laughing and simply staring in shock. He chose the latter. What in the world was going on?

There was complete silence for a long moment before the girl spoke.

"H-how long have you been king for?" the girl stammered, directing her question at Arthur.

"Three months," he replied warily, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The children seemed to notice this and took a step back, the girl's back bumping against one of the chairs. She winced in pain. Llacheu's hand also went to his sword, prompting Leon and Gwaine to reach for theirs and step forward, though no one actually unsheathed their weapons.

"You have got to be kidding," the middle boy with the dark brown hair said, he glanced at his three companions, "please say this is some kind of joke."

"Afraid not, Amhar," Llacheu replied – so that was another name – his blue eyes not leaving the crowd before him. Then he added, more to himself: "you can never trust stuff that gives off green smoke."

Merlin tensed and glanced over at Gaius, whose brows furrowed in concentration. Green smoke? That definitely sounded like magic.

"Green smoke, you say?" the physician asked. The question was aimed at Llacheu but it was the youngest boy, the one who had shocked everyone with his words and actions that replied. He sounded quite eager.

"Yes, green smoke!" he exclaimed. "It started off as brown watery stuff then it went blue and bubbly and started puffing out purple smoke and then it went green and blew over to us and then everything was white and WHAM we woke up on top of a square table that's supposed to round but it's square in the room Papa has all his meetings in and there was this one time-" he broke off suddenly, seeing who it was he was rambling to. "Gaius!" he screamed, rushing forward and embracing the old man's knees. "You're all better!"

"Well, I," Gaius seemed to be at a loss for words, staring down, dumbstruck, at the boy. A few feet away Llacheu's palm collided with his forehead. It was Agravaine who ended the moment.

"What exactly is going on?" he demanded loudly.

"It sounds like magic, sire," Gaius responded quickly before the children could even open their mouths.

"Magic?" Arthur asked. "Are you certain."

"Yes," Gaius confirmed with a nod of his head and everyone leaned in a little, eager to hear his explanation, "I have heard of a very advanced spell that involves the creation of a potion that gives off a purple gas that is supposed to turn orange."

"But they said it turned green," Merlin reminded him.

"I know," Gaius acknowledged, "the ritual is very complicated and it almost always goes wrong and the gas turns green. The green gas, I've heard, can have some very unusual side-effects."

"What's the spell for?" Leon asked, curious.

"As far as I'm aware it is supposed to return a person's youth and vitality. It is an ancient spell that was once used by the high priestesses of the old religion to keep themselves young."

_I wonder if Nimueh used something like that, _Merlin wondered, remembering how the powerful sorceress had appeared much younger than she really was.

"And these… side-effects?" Arthur asked.

"It has been said that those who breath in the green smoke are transported to a period in time that is not their own."

"Time travel?" Agravaine wondered aloud, staring at the four children in disbelief. Gaius nodded grimly.

"I believe so."

"So," Amhar whispered, "we've gone back in time?"

Suddenly Gwaine let loose a laugh. "So what, you're from the future or something?"

Merlin watched with keen eyes as the children glanced amongst themselves, silently electing a speaker. At last the girl stepped forward.

"Yes," she replied, "my name is Seren and these are my brothers:" she gestured to the eldest, "Llacheu," then the younger one with the dark hair and eyes, "Amhar", finally she looked to the little one that had embraced both Arthur and Gaius, "and Gwydre."

"And let me guess," the rambunctious knight continued, giving everyone a glimpse at the sharp intelligence that he typically kept hidden beneath his drunken, playful persona, "you're the princess of Camelot and you lot," he nodded at the boys, "are the Prat Juniors."

Both Llacheu and Amhar were about to protest but Seren interrupted them.

"That would be about right."

Gwaine smirked in satisfaction and folded his arms across his chest. Everyone was now staring at the children – the time travellers – in even more shock and awe than before. These were Arthur's children who had someone come through time; the princes and princess of Camelot from the future. It was Arthur who spoke first.

"… I think I need to sit down."

* * *

><p><strong>Echo: Right, so that was that.<strong>

**Goldfish: Now you're going to ask them to review and what they think.**

**Echo: Yes, exac... Hey! Wait a second, how did you know that? I'm pretty sure you're not psychic, have you been stalking me?**

**Goldfish: I live in your room, stalking you is unnecessary.**

**Echo: I suppose you have a point there. So, please review!**


	3. Four Pendragons Stuck in the Past

**Echo: Wow. I really have to say, the feedback and response to this story has been _excellent. _It's been much better than I expected, I'm really pleased.**

**Goldfish: How _wonderful. _Now get on with the story.**

**Echo: Right. Well, here's the 3rd chapter. BTW, who watched the Hunter's Heart and The Sword in the Stone Part 1? EPIC! I would gush about the episodes but I don't want to spoil anything for anyone who hasn't seen them yet. Can't wait for the finale on Saturday!**

**Goldfish: Yes, yes, now get on with it. I have far more important things to be doing than listening to your running commentary!**

**Echo: It's hardly that but you're right. On with the chapter! ... What exactly does "far more important things" involve?**

**Goldfish: Nothing! Nothing at all!**

**Echo: Riiiight... I do not own Merlin (however much I wish I did), it is the property of the BBC.**

* * *

><p><strong>Magic in Time<strong>

**Chapter 3**

**~ Four Pendragons Stuck in the Past ~**

Merlin couldn't help but be slightly wary and on edge as he followed Arthur's orders and led the four children to the empty rooms assigned to them. After the revelation of their identities the situation in the council chambers had been resolved surprisingly quickly. All the witnesses had been sworn to secrecy – no one else needed to know that Arthur's future children were wandering about the castle – though it was highly likely that the other main knights, Elyan and Percival, would be informed. It was late, and with the vow that the situation would be discussed in the morning, Arthur had dismissed the council and told Merlin to take the children to four empty rooms.

Truthfully, Merlin didn't know what to think of the situation. A small part of him worried that this was all some elaborate hoax, thought up by Morgana and Agravaine, the other part of him wanted to interrogate the children about the future: did Albion exist? Could magic be practiced openly, without fear the fear of a death sentence?

He came to a halt in front of one of the large wooden doors.

"These are your rooms," he announced, his voice slightly constricted. He turned around to look at the four young Pendragons, who looked somewhat concerned, he noticed, watching him rather warily. Then Amhar, the second youngest, spoke.

"You know, Merlin, this isn't some kind of trick. We really are Arthur's children," his young voice was earnest, begging Merlin to believe him. In the torchlight, the young warlock could see the boy's big brown eyes staring up at him.

"We just want to get home," the girl added, her grip tightening on Gwydre hand. Merlin looked down at the little boy who had embraced both Arthur and Gaius. He felt strangely drawn to him, much more than the others, even though the light was dim he could see the king in the child; in that flaxen hair and those shining blue eyes.

"I believe you," he said finally and pushed open the door. He then gestured to the three other doors close by. "Pick whichever one takes your fancy."

Seren inclined her head to him and only later when he thought about it would Merlin find the show of respect strange. "Thank you, Merlin."

Alright, maybe the boys had convinced him but there was no way this could be Arthur's daughter, he laughed inwardly before smiling at them.

"Goodnight," he told them.

"Goodnight," they echoed and he turned and walked away, headed back to the king's chambers. Behind him the children all hurriedly pushed into the one room.

* * *

><p>"Great," Llacheu exclaimed as he slammed the door shut behind him, "just bloody perfect!"<p>

"Llacheu!" Seren hissed, glaring at her older brother before glancing over at Gwydre, hoping that he hadn't taken an interest in Llacheu's cursing.

Llacheu paid her no head and threw himself onto the chair near the fireplace. By coincidence, Seren noted, they had been placed in the room that belonged to him back in their own time so everything was quite familiar.

"I mean, how could this have happened?" he asked, slouching and throwing out his arms. "Tonight was supposed to be a feast, not us being sent back in time Merlin's mispronunciation."

"For all you know he might have added a wrong ingredient," Amhar countered, joining Llacheu at the table.

"Whatever he did wrong, just look where it's gotten us."

"I can just imagine Father's reaction, though," Amhar grinned.

A smile tugged at the eldest Pendragon's lips. "That would certainly be something to behold. Shame we have to miss it."

Seren sighed and walked over to them.

"I heard there was going to be venison at the feast tonight," Amhar moaned.

"And roast duck," Llacheu added moodily. Seren rolled her eyes, those were her brothers, more concerned about their meals than anything else.

"Is that all you ever think about?" the princess demanded, placing her hands on her hips. "We're stuck in the past and you're complaining about missing the feast? Honestly, Llacheu, get your priorities straight."

"I will," he informed her, "as soon as I'm finished ranting."

He turned to Amhar and the two continued to complain about what they were missing back home. Seren resisted the urge to stomp and throw her hands in the air. She loved the two of them, yes, but sometimes they could be so annoying! Something tugged at her dress. She looked down.

"Gwydre?" she enquired. He looked up at her, one hand still fisted in the pale blue velvet of her skirts.

"Seren, what's going on?" he asked, staring tearfully up at her. It was at this moment that Seren remembered just how young her little brother was and how little an understanding he would have of the situation. Carefully she took his hand, freeing his hold on her dress, and led him across the room to the bed.

"Why didn't Papa recognise me? Or Merlin? Where's Mama?" he asked as, with some effort, she hoisted him up onto the mattress and sat beside him.

"Gwydre," she explained slowly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and drawing him in close. He rested his head against her collar and shifted his legs so he was sitting half on her lap. "You remember that spell Merlin cast?"

He nodded, his cheek moving against the velvet of her dress: "the one with the green smoke?"

"Yes," she confirmed, "and guess what it did."

"What?"

"It sent us back in time!" she feigned excitement in her voice. Gwydre immediately sat up straight.

"Back in time?" he repeated. "Can we meet Grandfather?"

"No," Seren replied, "he's already dead. Right now, Papa's only been king for a little while and he hasn't married Mama yet."

This reminded Gwydre of his earlier question. "Where is Mama?"

"I don't know," Seren murmured before pulling back from Gwydre and smoothing down his hair. "We'll look for her tomorrow, what do you think?"

Gwydre nodded enthusiastically: "Yes, let's!"

By this point Llacheu and Amhar had finished their 'rant' and walked over to join them. They only caught the end of their siblings' conversation.

"Look for who?" Llacheu enquired, crossing his arms and leaning one shoulder against the bedpost.

"Mama!" Gwydre informed, leaping from Seren's lap. "I can show her my new trick!"

His eyes flashed gold and an ember appeared in his palm. Seren's eyes grew suddenly wide as she just remembered something.

"Gwydre, no, you can't!"

Llacheu caught on just a second later. Uther's law had yet to be done away with and magic was still punishable by death. Though Llacheu doubted their father would ever even consider murdering his own son it was always better to be safe than sorry, particularly in situations such as the one they were in now. Besides, there were other people he was afraid would catch wind about such a secret. Namely his great uncle and, consequently, his aunt; that would be a disaster.

"Why not?" the six-year-old asked, confused. Mama was always very impressed with all the wondrous things he could do.

"You're not allowed to use magic here," Llacheu explained to him, "Grandfather Uther hated sorcerers and the ban hasn't been lifted yet."

Understanding dawned in Amhar's eyes as he moved closer to them.

"Of course," he said, sitting down on the bed, "I'd completely forgotten that the ban ever existed." He looked up at his older brother and sister, suddenly alarmed. "If father's hatred of magic is still strong then, if he finds out about Gwydre, he'll never believe who we are."

"Worse," Llacheu grunted, "he might have us all executed."

Seren gasped: "he wouldn't…"

"If he thought we were sorcerers betraying his trust by lying about our identities then he just might."

Seren slumped and gazed worriedly at their youngest brother. "That's our top priority then, keeping Gwydre's secret safe," she said firmly. They all nodded and she beckoned for Gwydre to come to her. He did. "Gwydre, we need you to understand how dangerous this situation is, for all of us but you especially you need to keep your powers hidden. Can you promise us that?"

"Keep the magic secret," Llacheu told him. Gwydre nodded and then smiled widely, revealing one missing tooth. He glanced around for a moment, looking for something, until his eyes rested up the golden dragon resting against the hollow of Seren's throat. He reached up and placed his open palm against it. His smile vanished and was replaced by a very serious expression.

"Pendragon promise," he swore solemnly. The other three smiled, remembering the pact they had made years ago, started by Llacheu and Seren when they were only five and four years old respectively and Amhar was still just a baby. As soon as their younger brothers were old enough (the age of initiation amongst them was considered to be the subject's fourth birthday) they were also introduced to it. It was their secret pact. A Pendragon promise had to be sworn on their family emblem and could not be broken unless all agreed on it.

Seren ruffled her little brother's hair. "We'll hold you to that."

Amhar sighed and lay back on the bed. "It's scary, isn't it? Being here and having to keep this secret." He began, staring up at the canopy, "It makes you wonder what the magic-users living in these times must feel like. It must be terrifying."

"At least we have the comfort of knowing the ban will be lifted soon," Seren said, placing her hands behind her on the bed and leaning back. Gwydre, feeling left out, scrambled onto the bed to lie between her and Amhar. Llacheu remained on his feet, leaning against the bedpost. Seren looked over and met his gaze. He looked serious now; he knew what was at stake. An unbidden vow passed between them, a promise to protect their younger brothers and to look out for each other. They were the eldest, they were the protectors.

And though Seren would never admit it, she trusted Llacheu to protect her too. And she would protect him – perhaps not with a sword, though she knew the basics of handling one, but, she glanced at her companions, there was only one person in this group who could properly apply their brain to a situation.

The soft look on Llacheu's face faded into a frown.

"Don't look at me like that, Seren," he warned, "I hate that look, it's like you're laughing at me in your head."

Seren giggled. "Maybe I am. I was just comparing our brainpower."

"And?"

"You're not the brightest candle."

He scoffed. "And you are?"

"I'm certainly more intelligent than you."

"Are not!"

"Someone's in denial."

"And they call _me _the arrogant one."

"Because it's true."

"Well, excuse me, _little sister_…"

"Don't call me that!"

Amhar glanced over at his older siblings and rolled his eyes. Maybe it came from them being so close in ages that made them act like partners in crime one moment and squabble like canaries the next. Drowning out their argument, the third Pendragon sibling drew in his legs and performed a backwards roll to the other end of the king-sized bed. He then got up and went over to the window and opened it. In the darkness, he could just make out a figure riding out into the courtyard. He called over his siblings and pointing down at the man – he was sure it was man – who was just galloping through the gate.

"Who's that?" he asked. Seren leaned forward, squinting as she tried to make out the rider in the gloom.

"Agravaine," she growled, "it has to be."

"That snake!" Llacheu hissed angrily, banging his fist against the wall.

"Agravaine?" Gwydre asked, jumping up and down as he tried and failed to see out the window, "who's that?"

"A bad man that you should stay away from," Seren's voice was icily calm and very dangerous. Gwydre nodded, somewhat fearful of his sister's tone and glad knowing it wasn't directed at him. He remembered the slimy looking man with the dark, greasy hair in the council chambers from earlier. He had been called Agravaine.

"Just knowing I'm related to that man makes me want to throw up," Llacheu announced quietly, his blue eyes narrowed. Amhar glanced out the window again but Agravaine was already gone from sight.

"Where's he going?" he asked, though inside he already knew the answer.

"Where else?" Llacheu laughed mirthlessly. "To Morgana."

Of course, if Agravaine knew they were here so would Morgana. Seren closed her eyes. The last thing she wanted any of them to have to deal with was Morgana. She could only hope that Merlin was somehow able to reverse the spell and bring them home before the big battle. Her eyes shot open once more as she suddenly remembered something. She spun around to face her brothers, accidently smacking Llacheu full in the face with her braid.

"Ow!"

"What are we going to tell Father tomorrow?" she asked, her voice slightly shrill. "We need to think up an excuse so that we don't reveal Merlin's secret."

"Easy," Llacheu responded, massaging his now scarlet cheek and shooting a glare at his sister for causing the injury, "we tell him it was Morgana. He'll believe that."

"You sure?" she pushed. "Why would Morgana want to use a spell that restores youth?"

"Who wouldn't want to use a spell that restores youth?" Amhar countered.

"True, but why would we be with Morgana."

"She kidnapped us and was going to sacrifice us to evil spirits?" Amhar suggested.

"Three headed bears!" Gwydre offered his own input excitedly.

"Three headed bears are a bit far-fetched," Seren shot him down and Gwydre's shoulders slumped.

"Let's just say it was Morgana and she was planning to kill us because she's still after the throne and wanted to get rid of Father's heirs."

"That… makes sense," Seren accepted finally.

"Good," Llacheu said, "now I'm going to hit the sack. We can talk more in the morning."

At the sound of this statement the other Pendragons became aware of just how tired they really were and for just how long they had been talking. Time travel had taken the energy out of them.

"We should all go to bed," Seren advised.

"I'm taking this room," Llacheu announced, walking over and falling face-first on the bed. "Goodnight."

In Llacheu's language "goodnight" meant "get the hell out and let me sleep" so, accepting that Llacheu's declaration was fair as this technically was his room, the other's promptly headed for the door and exited, leaving Llacheu on his own to snore like a pig.

"I'll take this one," Amhar said, opening the door opposite, entering and closing it behind him without so much as a goodnight. Seren couldn't find the energy within herself to be offended. She was struggling to keep her eyes open. For a moment she wondered if that was another side effect of the green smoke, sapping all your strength away in the short hours after it was inhaled. Gwydre, who was still awake (_it must be because of his magic, _Seren thought with a yawn) grabbed at her hand.

"Seren," he whispered to her, "can I sleep with you? I don't want to be alone."

Sleepily, Seren nodded and the two headed for the door next to the one Amhar had taken. No one wanted to sleep in the room next to Llacheu's; with the way he snored it was doubtful that even the castle's stone walls could prevent the sound from coming through.

* * *

><p><strong>Echo: So, the kids are finally getting to grips with their situation and sleazy Agravaine's gone off to tell our resident crazy-lady-in-black-who-lives-in-a-hovel-in-the-forest about the situation.<strong>

**Goldfish: And if I put this here...**

**Echo: What are you doing?**

**Goldfish: None of your business.**

**Echo: *peering worriedly into goldfish bowl* O_o You and Morgana are actually rather alike. Okay, well, remember to review and tell me how you think everythings coming along. In creative writing, characterisation is one of the most important areas for me and I like to put quite a lot of focus on it so tell me what you think about the mini-Pendragons, I'm rather curious about people's opinions. So, yeah, that's about it - review!**

**Goldfish: Or die.**

**Echo: Must you turn everything into a threat?**

**Goldfish: Yes.**

**Echo: *rolls eyes***


	4. New Developments

**Echo: Well, Happy New Year, everyone. You can consider this my present to you - chapter 4, for which I could not think of a title so chose something random.**

**Goldfish: Yes, my New Year's present is nearly ready... I'm sure you'll all enjoy it...**

**Echo: Save it for the apocolypse, Goldfish.**

**Goldfish: But-!**

**Echo: Save it!**

**Goldfish: You are no fun. Do you want to hear my New Year's resolution?**

**Echo: You're going to stop trying to take over the world?**

**Goldfish: I'm going to try even harder!**

**Echo: _Great._**

**Goldfish: Isn't it?**

**Echo: Let's just get on with the chapter. I don't own Merlin, now enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Magic in Time<strong>

**Chapter 4**

**~ New Developments ~**

When Merlin arrived in Arthur's chambers the first thing he noticed was the young king sitting at his desk, his shoulders slumped and his head cradled in his hands. The warlock shut the door, making his sovereign aware of his presence. Arthur, however, made no move to acknowledge his manservant.

"Well," Merlin said loudly, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "that was certainly an interesting turn of events today in the council chamber." Arthur still did not respond. "Four children, my, my, you have been busy in the future."

"Merlin," Arthur's voice sounded from the far end of the room, "please, not now."

"Why not now? They're your children; you're going to have to take an interest in them whilst they're here."

By this point Merlin had walked forwards until he was right in front of the king's desk. Finally, Arthur removed his head from his hands and stared up at manservant with sad blue eyes. In that moment something clicked in the young warlock's mind. Gwen. He realised that the children could not have chosen a more inconvenient time to arrive in - Gwen had only been banished two days ago and Merlin knew that Arthur still loved her and, deep down, regretted sending her away. It was... painful for him, to suddenly discover that in the future he would have children, he saw the four of them with his own two eyes, and know the Gwen wasn't their mother.

"Is this about-" Merlin began but, predicting what he was going to say, Arthur's eyes immediately hardened and he trailed off. Gwen's name had become taboo around the palace, at least in front of the king. "Well, they're here, we're going to have to do something about it."

"We're going to find out how they got here," Arthur told him, getting up from his chair, "and if they're lying."

"They seemed truthful to me," Merlin offered his opinion, helping Arthur out of his brown coat.

"Exactly, _to you."_

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, _Mer_lin, that I don't trust your perceptions. I doubt you'd recognise a liar if he was standing right in front of you."

This coming from the man who didn't even realise that his own uncle sneaking about right under his nose.

"I'll speak with the children in the morning," Arthur confirmed, pulling off one of his boots. Merlin nodded, he was especially curious of what the children had to say.

* * *

><p>Lord Agravaine de Bois rode swiftly through the wild undergrowth of the forest, heading directly for Morgana's hovel. As he reached the familiar area he reigned the dark stallion in and dismounted before tying the reigns to the branch of a nearby tree and heading down towards his lady's small, hut-like home. He pushed the door open, inside it was almost completely dark, the only light coming from a small, flickering candle in the far corner of the room.<p>

"My lady?" he called. "Morgana?"

Something cold and sharp brushed against his back and the dark-haired man closed his eyes, waiting for the beautiful young sorceress to speak.

"My Lord Agravaine," she greeted, her voice low and quiet. She didn't remove the knife from his back. "What brings you here at this time of night?"

She was irritated at being disturbed. She had been just about to go to bed when she had felt something happen, something magical, powerful, and for the past hour she had been attempting to scry and find out what it was, yet somehow it was... blocked to her, hidden from her sight. Truth be told, she was fearful this was something to do with Emrys.

"There has been a, ah, situation at the palace."

"Oh?" Morgana asked, feigning curiosity. Sometimes Agravaine came to her about the most minimal things, it was annoying.

"Something I think you will be interested in."

"Yes?" she asked, withdrawing the knife from his back and stepping away. He turned to face her, his eyes glinting in the gloom. He was obviously excited about whatever it was he was going to tell her. Maybe this information was useful after all.

"This evening, in the council council chambers, something strange happened..."

"Get to the point, Agravaine," Morgana snapped. She wasn't interested in his little story; she was more concerned about the sudden burst of magic she had felt and if it was in someway linked to Emrys, the man who was to be her doom.

"Four children appeared in the council chambers," he informed her hurriedly. "By magic."

The dark-haired beauty froze. Had that the burst of magic she had felt? Four children suddenly appearing in the council chambers of the castle?

"Go on," she prompted after a moment.

"Yes, well, the children claim to be from the future."

Morgana spun around suddenly so she and Agravaine were face-to-face, knife still in hand.

"And you believe them?" she enquired, stepping closer to him.

"I do, my lady," he replied in a near whisper. His breath brushed her forehead and she retreated once more, playing absently with the blade in her hands. This was a new development. Morgana frowned, her dark eyebrows knitting together. She hadn't known timetravel was possible and she wondered how these children had done it.

As if sensing her question, Agravaine replied. "Gaius was able to determine that they were somehow on the receiving end of a powerful spell gone wrong. A youth spell apparently."

Morgana nodded slowly. Her dear sister had told her about such things, spells that revitalised the body and kept one young. Apparently they had been used by the high priestesses of the Old Religion, such as herself, and were very difficult to perform and could have some strange and dnagerous side-effects should anything go wrong. She had never doubted Morgause's words and if Gaius had said that timetravel was a side-effect then she could believe it. Though Morgana loathed to admit it, the old physician was not lacking in knowledge.

"And there's more."

She turned to face Agravaine once more: "Yes?"

"The children," he paused for a brief moment, "they're Arthur's."

In that instant the world seemed to stop spinning. There was silence in the dark hovel for several long moments as Agravaine awaited the witch's response.

"...What?"

"The children, my lady, they claim that Arthur is their father."

"And? Do you believe they speak the truth? Answer me, Agravaine!" she demanded, raising her voice. Looking back to the time in the council chambers earlier that evening, Agravaine recalled Llacheu's bright blue eyes, Seren's high, elegent cheekbones, Amhar's mouth and Gwydre's flaxen hair. They resembled Arthur, undeniably, and they resembled Igraine.

"Yes," he replied quickly, fearing his lady's reaction. On cue a piece of pottery sitting on a faraway table shattered. Morgana's mouth was pulled into a thin line and her fists were clenched, the knuckles on her hands turning even whiter than her pale, porcelain skin. Her eyes flashed with rage. She trusted Agravaine's judgement, at least on matters such as these, and she realised, angrily, what this meant.

Arthur had obviously managed to thwart her and had at least lived long enough to have children. Four children. Four heirs. Four little Uther Pendragons running around Camelot, doubtlessly making the world a worse place and ensuring that those with magic remained suppressed. She stormed away from Agravaine, across to the centre of the room where she threw her hands down on the table and leaned heavily upon it. She resisted the urge to scream in fustration. It would do no good and Agravaine was watching. Instead she attempted to calm herself. For once Agravaine was keeping his distance, he was probably afraid she'd lash out at him. Finally she straightened and turned to look at him.

"Make no changes," she told him, "we will proceed as planned. I am going to see Helios tomorrow and you will remain as a spy in my... _dear brother's _court. Find out what you can about these children."

* * *

><p>Seren awoke late the next morning. She yawned and blinked groggily, raising herself up on one elbow to observe her surroundings. She frowned. This wasn't her room. And why was she so cold? Looking down she noticed that Gwydre was curled up beside her, still asleep, and that they were both lying on top of the sheets instead of under them. They were also both wearing the fine clothes they were supposed to be attending the feast in and her scalp was in <em>agony.<em> She reached up and tentatively stroked her head, feeling the smoothness of her tightly pulled-back hair and bumps of diamond pins. Why was she... then it all came back to her: going to see Merlin, the green smoke, appearing in the council chambers more than a decade in the past...

She shot into an upright position, unintentionally stirring her little brother, a word she had heard from one of the stable boys that her mother had warned her never to use almost slipping off her tongue.

"Seren?" Gwydre asked, rubbing his eyes as he too sat up. She looked at him as he glanced around the room before settling his innocent blue gaze on her. "Are we still in the past?"

When Seren spoke her voice sounded high and constricted in her throat. "I think so."

"Oh. Are we going to look for Mama today?"

Trust a six-year-old to take the idea of being stuck in the past so well. All he was concerned about was the location of his mother. Seren suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, there was no one whose presence Gwydre would rather be in than their mother's.

"Yes," Seren replied, getting out of bed and walking over to the full-length mirror, "but we need to get Llacheu and Amhar and meet with Father first. He wants to talk to us."

She appraised herself for a moment. Her blue velvet dress was crumpled from her sleeping on it and her hair didn't look half as elegent as it had last night: whispy strands of blonde hair were escaping from the braid and the pretty little purple flowers that Ariana decorated her hair with had either fallen out or had been crushed. Not to mention the pain she was in. Why she had decided to give Ariana the night off she had no idea, even if she hadn't been transported to the past their was no way she'd be able to get all these pins out herself.

"I'll have to ask Father if I can borrow one of the maids," she muttered to herself, attempting to smooth out the deep creases in the fine gown. By this point Gwydre had already leapt out of bed and was waiting eagerly by the door, his own dark blue tunic crumpled even worse than her dress though he paid it no heed.

"Come on, Seren!" he urged, "we have to go wake up Amhar and Llacheu!"

"Just a second," she responded, straightening her necklace, making sure that the golden dragon rested in its proper spot, right between her collar bones.

"Come on," the little boy called impatiently, "you're pretty even when you're covered in mud; let's go!"

Feeling flattered, despite the fact that the compliment had come from her six-year-old brother, Seren stopped fussing (she had wanted to make a good impression on her father and whoever else would be there whilst they were being questioned) and walked over to the door, opened it and stepped out into the hallway only to see Llacheu also just exiting his room.

"Hey Llach!" Gwydre greeted happily, stepping out from behind Seren, "guess what, we're still in the past!"

"I know," Llacheu replied, somewhat moodily Seren couldn't help but think. He paused in his movements and straightened, rotating his shoulders and lifting a hand behind him to rest against his spine. "Oh, my back," he moaned rather pitifully. Seren frowned, catching on to something. She raised a single, conscending, blonde eyebrow at her elder brother.

"Llacheu," she enquired slowly, "did you _sleep _in your chainmail?"

He glared at her. "Yes, I was tired. I didn't realise that I hadn't taken it off."

She rolled her eyes. "You idiot."

"How's your head?" he asked mockingly, eyeing the diamond pins with a smirk. Seren glowered at him, not appreciating the reminder of her sore head, and knocked loudly on the door she remembered Amhar entering last night.

"I'm coming!" her brother's voice sounded from the other side. A second later the door was thrown open and Amhar stood in the entrance, his clothes dishevelled and his dark brown hair sticking up at awkward angles.

"What an impression we're going to make," she sighed.

* * *

><p><strong>Echo: Well, now that Morgana's in the picture things are getting interesting.<strong>

**Goldfish: Indeed.**

**Echo: Now, remember to review!**

**Goldfish: Yes, review or-**

**Echo: Just wish the nice people a Happy New Year.**

**Goldfish: Yes, _Happy _New Year.**

**Echo: Oh, I don't like that look in your eye...**


	5. An Audience with the King

**Echo: Well, after what was honestly a rather stressful day, I am back with another chapter!**

**Goldfish: Hu-ray.**

**Echo: I'm not sensing much enthusiasm from you, Goldfish.**

**Goldfish: Why would you? You confiscated my latest invention!**

**Echo: With good cause too! You don't need to be in a mood with me; I'm just defending humanity!**

**Goldfish: Exactly.**

**Echo: Fine, be like that. Anyway, I had my first prelim today (maths, ulch) and well... I really don't want to think about it. Anyways, on with the chapter, hope you enjoy it! Will you do the disclaimer, Goldfish?**

**Goldfish: Not until you give my back my precious creation.**

**Echo: Nevermind. I'll do it. I do not own Merlin, it is the property of the BBC.**

* * *

><p><strong>Magic in Time<strong>

**Chapter 5**

**~ An Audience with the King ~**

Having lived their whole lives in the castle, the four royal children didn't even consider waiting for an escort. They knew where their father would be: the throne room. They made their way leisurely down the stairs, Seren still inwardly fussing about what a state they were all in. Amhar and Gwydre were a little way ahead of their older siblings, bouncing down the stairs with barely disguised excitement – being in the past was an adventure for them, and they relished it. Llacheu was walking in stride with Seren, his eyes darting about taking in their surroundings and his ears wide open. Suddenly he stopped.

Three maids – not very old, perhaps in their early twenties or so – were standing at the far end of the corridor gossiping. He reached out and grasped his sister's upper arm, forcing her to halt as well.

"Llacheu?" Seren asked, confused. She glanced over at Amhar and Gwydre who were already several yards ahead of them. Llacheu shushed her and gestured to the maids. Seren frowned and took a step forward, straining her ears to try and hear what they were talking about. She didn't catch much of it, but what she did hear made her eyes widen and skin pale.

She exchanged a horrified glance with her brother. The day before yesterday was meant to be the kings wedding but the future queen – one of them, no less – had been caught in the arms of another knight the eve before the nuptials and had been banished. The knight – noble Sir Lancelot had taken his own life in the cells.

Both Seren and Llacheu knew this story well but generally liked to pretend it had never happened. Seren's head buzzed with a thousand thoughts. They were here in the time that Mother had been banished? She had been relying on Gwen's presence to help them figure out what to do! How would Father react when he discovered their parentage? She had heard from Merlin that around this period her father had practically banned all mention of the servant girl who was to be queen. What was she going to say to Gwydre? And Amhar?

Instead all that came out was a breathy, "Mother's gone?"

Llacheu nodded slowly, his face drawn. He was more disturbed by the news than he outwardly showed but Seren knew him well enough to be able to tell that he was as distressed as she.

"Seems so."

"What do we do now then?" she asked in hushed tone, "you've heard how Father reacted to any mention of Mother around this time."

"I know," he replied grimly.

"So?" she pushed.

"We don't say anything. Let him think we're - what's her name? – Mithian's children. Just don't mention it."

Seren frowned at that. She didn't like the idea of having to hide her parentage. She was proud of who she was, her parents and her origins. Nevertheless, she knew that, in this time, discretion was vital. With Agravaine lurking around, a battle coming up, her mother away from court, Gwydre's magic and her father's doubtlessly bad mood it could mean the difference between life and death and her brother's lives were too precious for her to risk.

She leaned closer to Llacheu.

"I promised Gwydre we'd look for mother today," she sighed, thinking of his disappointment and hoping he took the news okay. "We'll have to tell him and Amhar," she decided.

"You're right," Llacheu acknowledged and the two looked over to where Amhar and Gwydre were almost the full way down the corridor. The maids had moved on. "Amhar!" he called, "Gwydre!"

The younger Pendragons turned and Amhar raised an eyebrow at his elder brother and sister.

"Aren't you coming?" he called back.

"Slow coaches!" Gwydre added, grabbing his brother's hand, "c'mon, Amhar, let's race!"

"Wait!" Seren cried, "come back, we need to tell you something important."

With mutters of "fine" the younger two started back to join their siblings who were walking forward. The two pairs met in the middle of the corridor.

"What is it?" Amhar asked.

Seren bit her lip and paused for a brief moment before answering. "Mother's not here."

Amhar didn't seem particularly surprised by this. "I know. It's more than two whole months before their wedding – Father said he'd only been king for three months – isn't she still living in the lower town?"

Llacheu folded his arms and looked away. "No, she's been banished."

"BANISHED?"

"Shhh!" Llacheu shushed him. He and Amhar stared intently at each other for a few seconds before understanding, quickly followed by resignation, dawned in the younger brother's eyes. He too had heard the tale of their mother's brief affair with Sir Lancelot and the banishment that had followed.

"Oh," he said lifelessly, "we're in _that _time."

Seren tried to smile but there was no happiness in it. "Afraid so."

Amhar had taken the news well, Gwydre, on the other hand, did not understand. He was too young to have heard the tale or, if he had, grasp its meaning. He knew what banishment was, however. His mother banished? Surely not. How could Papa do such a thing? Why would he?

"Seren," he whined pitifully, tears welling up in his bright blue eyes. "Why?" he hiccupped, "how is she…?"

"Gwydre," the girl murmured, her heart cracking at the sight of her brother's confused tears. She stepped towards him, opening her arms.

"I want her here!" all three siblings eyes widened in fear as Gwydre's young voice rose in volume, "I want Mama! I want her now!"

In an instant Seren was kneeling on the floor, her arms around Gwydre, crushing him to her. Llacheu and Amhar had both taken several steps closer as well, staring down with matching pained looks of concern.

"Shh, shh," Seren hushed gently, rocking Gwydre's head against her shoulder as his tears slowly began to dry. Gwydre had never been a demanding child, he almost never threw tantrums and if he was upset he always managed, with the right kind of comfort, to calm down quickly. They were all on edge, however, and for a moment they had all been genuinely terrified that the boy's distress would activate his magic.

After a minute or two, Seren pulled away. Gwydre sniffled a little, and wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve but, overall, he was much better.

"Is she coming back?" he asked. Seren smiled gently as she stood up.

"Yes, she's coming back soon. Don't worry, Gwydre."

This seemed to cheer him up greatly and he smiled back at her before turning to Llacheu and lifting up both arms.

"Piggy back, Llacheu?" he asked. Staring down at his youngest brother, who was looking up at him with that wide-eyed, innocent expression, Llacheu felt his resolve to stop being Gwydre's packhorse falter. Within five seconds it had completely shatter. Grumbling to himself, he turned around and knelt down, letting Gwydre scramble onto his back. As he did so, he caught Seren smirking at him.

"Just remember, Gwydre, you can't talk about Mother to anyone but us. Alright?" Seren warned the youngest Pendragon as Llacheu stood up, Gwydre's arms wrapped around his neck. Gwydre nodded.

"I won't."

"Good," she said and Llacheu began to walk forward in the direction of the throne room, ignoring Gwydre's commands that he speed up and doing his best to ignore the small pair of booted feet kicking his ribs through the chainmail. Telling Gwydre he wasn't a horse never seemed to do any good so he resigned himself to trek and swore for the eleventh time that month that he would never give his brother a piggy-back again.

A couple of yards behind, Seren and Amhar grinned at the familiar sight of Llacheu being forced to carry his younger brother. Amhar expression soon turned to one of worry, however.

"Do you think people will notice?" he asked.

"Notice what?"

"Who our mother is. I know that we're not going to say anything but they still might guess. I mean, I do kind of look like her."

"Nobody noticed yesterday," Seren tried to reassure him.

"It was dark," Amhar insisted and Seren realised he had a point. She eyed her younger brother carefully. While it was true that, of all of them, Amhar did look the most like their mother, the resemblance wasn't obvious: his skin was lighter, a healthy tan colour that could easily be mistaken for spending time in the sun rather than a natural pigmentation. His hair was straight and dark brown, darker than Llacheu's, but dark hair was not unusual and it was lighter than say, Merlin's. His eyes were brown – the same deep, cocoa shade as hers – but again, such features were hardly uncommon. In fact, from what she could remember from the one occasion that she had met her, Princess Mithian also shared those features. If one scrutinised him closely they would recognise his facial as a combination between Gwen and Arthur's yet mixed in a way that, if you did not know, he did not seem to resemble either parent. Of course, if Gwen was standing next to him for comparison, or even in the same room, the illusion would be lost and it would be impossible to say neither at least shared a distant relation.

"You'll be fine," she told him. Gwen wasn't here and no one was expecting her to return. Arthur was doubtlessly trying to free his mind and heart from her grasp, he would not look for any resemblance to his love in Amhar.

"You should keep your up as well," he advised her. Reflexively, Seren brought her hand to her head, running it along the tightly pulled back curls, feeling the bumps of diamond pins. She winced, reminded of the pain. If she didn't take these out soon and let her hair lie loose she was convinced it would _fall _out.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "You look a lot like Mother when it's loose; it's all curly."

Fair point, she supposed. However, she'd definitely be tying it looser.

"We're here," Llacheu announced unnecessarily as he came to a halt in front of the large wooden doors leading into the throne room. Seren and Amhar joined him in front of him, Seren standing at his immediate right and Amhar next to her. Gwydre still clung to Llacheu's back.

The guards posted on either side of the door did not move but merely turned their heads to look suspiciously at the four strange, finely yet messily dressed children standing in front of the doors leading into the room their monarch was currently in.

"Hel-lo?" Llacheu asked, "are you going to let us in?"

"We have an audience with the king," Seren added after a moment. She shot a glance at her older brother. He was evidently disgruntled by the guards not simply accepting his presence and letting him go wherever he pleased. She too was unused to not receiving respect from the guards though she understood the situation. The two guards look at each other before going to open the door. Wordlessly, the four children entered. Inside the throne room Arthur stood, dressed in him chainmail, with Merlin, Gaius and Agravaine standing over by the throne.

_My dear traitor great-uncle, _Seren thought sarcastically. It seemed as if she'd just have to get used to him. _Joyous._


	6. To Believe or Not to Believe?

**Echo: In a bit of a hurry to upload this since I'm just about to go out but I just wanted to apologise for the long wait and say that I really appreciate all your patience with me. I've been very busy since Christmas, what with prelims then exams and this has been a pretty important and pretty stressful school year for me. Anyway, it's the summer holidays now so I should be able to update more regularly. And please remember to review, it really helps my motivation when it comes to fanfics. OK, I'm done. Hit it, Goldfish!**

**Goldfish: EchoGirl319 does not own Merlin!**

**Magic in Time**

**Chapter 6**

**~ To Believe or Not to Believe ~**

"Are you sure this is wise, sire?" Agravaine asked again and Merlin barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "We have no idea if these children are telling the truth. They could be spies or assassins or worse."

Merlin scoffed under his breath.

"You think I haven't considered that, Uncle?" Arthur too was beginning to grow tired of his uncle's nagging. "We won't be able to tell if they're lying or not until we speak with them face to face."

"But, your majesty–" Agravaine opened his mouth to protest once more but at that same moment the heavy, double wooden doors were pushed open to reveal three of the children that had so mysteriously appeared in the council chambers the night before. Merlin could see no sign of the youngest child, the exuberant one that had caught his attention yesterday like none of the others had, until he noticed a mop of blond hair and large blue eyes peeking out from over the eldest boy's chainmail-clad shoulder. It was only after seeing that all four were present that Merlin really took in their appearances. They looked... well, dishevelled was the only word that would come to mind: their clothes were crumpled, their hair messy and their eyes still heavy with sleep. Even with their fine clothes, they appeared quite out of place in the pristine throne room.

"Uh, hi," the girl greeted awkwardly, raising one hand as if she intended to wave at the four men standing across the room before thinking better of it and returning it to her side. She exchanged a glance with the eldest boy, who had now let go of the little one. "I mean, uh, good morning, your majesty, Merlin, Gaius," she hesitated for the briefest of moments before adding, somewhat curtly, "my Lord Agravaine."

She inclined her head to each one of them and the four men exchanged looks. The girl was certainly not lacking in knowledge, by why on earth would she incline her head – a clear show of respect by anyone's standards – to Merlin, of all people?

In the very back of his mind Merlin couldn't help but smirk inwardly. All Arthur ever did was order him around; he liked this girl, she had the manners her father lacked – if Arthur really was her father, that was.

Arthur cleared his throat and Merlin glanced his way, the tips of his ears were a faint shade of pink and his hands, clad in his black leather gloves, were clenching and unclenching regularly. He was nervous.

"And you are?"

This time, like a proper young lady of court, the girl offered a small curtsy to the king. "Seren, my lord; Seren Pendragon. And these are my brothers: Llacheu, Amhar and Gwydre."

Unlike his sister, Gwydre actually did wave. "Hi, Papa."

It was amazing how quickly the little boy seemed able to render Arthur incapable of speech (Merlin could only wished that he possessed such a power) and Agravaine quickly seized the opportunity to steer the conversation in his direction.

"And you say you're from the future?" he inquired.

"Yes," Llacheu replied curtly. He did not bother to dispense with honorifics, something which Agravaine had clearly noted judging by his scowl.

"And how exactly did you get here?"

"Green smoke!" Gwydre exclaimed, leaping forward and bringing his arms up in a wide arc for dramatic effect.

"Wrong end of a spell," Amhar added.

"Well, how–" Agravaine began but was interrupted by Gaius who stepped forward.

"I can vouch for them," the old physician announced, offering the children and small smile before turning and addressing Arthur, "I believed I explained yesterday about a spell with such side-effects."

"A youth spell," Arthur said, "yes, I recall."

Merlin and Gaius had been looking into that spell the night before, after everyone else had retired. It had taken them a while, but they had finally located it in one of the volumes in Gaius's extensive collection. It was a very advanced spell and only someone incredibly practiced in the ways of the Old Religion had a chance of getting it right. Merlin doubted that even he could get it right on the first try. Essentially, it was the opposite of the spell he used when he took on the identity of Emrys or Dragoon but of course, restoring something was always more difficult than getting it in the first place. It was easy to turn oneself old in comparison turning oneself young again. Once youth was gone, it was a war with nature to get it back.

"Do you know who the sorcerer was?" Arthur asked.

Llacheu locked gazes with his father for a long moment before replying with a barely perceptible smirk, "who else? Auntie."

The king's eyes widened.

"Morgana?" he asked. Even Agravaine appeared slightly shocked.

"She doesn't like wrinkles," Llacheu joked.

Merlin's eyes narrowed slightly, noticing a flaw in their story. The children weren't very old; they were still children after all, so they couldn't be from that far in the future. Morgana was an incredibly beautiful woman, no one could deny that, and it was true that she'd always been vain to a certain extent. She'd always enjoyed looking her best and charming the men of court, wrapping them around her porcelain pinkie finger but surely she couldn't have aged that fast? And she was living in hovel in the forest, she didn't have the luxury of looking her best and, honestly, since the last time he'd seen her, she didn't seem to care. It didn't make sense that Morgana would be the one using the youth spell but the others seemed to accept Llacheu's explanation and gut instinct told Merlin not to speak up.

"And you were with Morgana because...?"

"She kidnapped us," Amhar said simply.

"She's mean," Gwydre added, sticking his thumb in his mouth.

"Why would she do that?" Agravaine pushed. It was a stupid question even by Merlin's standards and it seemed Seren agreed as she finally lost her patience with the man it seemed she had almost been tiptoeing around.

"What does Morgana want more than anything?" the dishevelled blonde snapped. "What does she want that we stand in the way of her getting?"

"The throne," it was Merlin who responded and all eyes in the room were suddenly upon him. "What?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders. "It's true."

After a moment's silence Seren peered up at the king from beneath long, dark blonde eyelashes.

"So, do you believe us?"

Merlin's eyes followed Arthur's as he took in the four children standing before him, starting with Llacheu. It was the first time he'd been able to see them clearly, in the light of day, and he could see now that Llacheu was a boy in his early adolescence, about fourteen years of age and spitting image of Arthur, albeit with a few notable changes. He was average height, still a fair bit shorter than the adults in the room and yet to hit his growth spurt, and well-built with a body that was clearly strong enough to carry the chainmail he was wearing. His hair was short and an autumn brown colour and was sticking up at awkward angles on his head like he hadn't bothered to run a comb through it after waking up. His skin was a warm tan colour, several shades darker than his father's fair complexion though Merlin couldn't be certain if it was natural pigmentation or if the boy just spent an inordinate amount of time in the sun. His eyes, however, were a clear blue and had a rather haughty, arrogant look to them that Merlin recognised all too well. Yes, this was definitely Arthur's son.

Next was the smallest boy who stood slightly to Llacheu's right, the top of his golden head just reaching his brother's waist. Seeing the calculating stares focused on him the boy, undaunted, plucked his thumb from his mouth and grin revealing two rows of pearly white baby teeth. Upon slightly closer inspection the warlock noticed that one was missing, his second right incisor from the upper row and he could just make out the white of the adult tooth growing in. Strangely enough, it did nothing but make him look even more endearing. Where many young noble girls of court would be swooning over Llacheu, even more would be cooing over Gwydre. With his ruffled flaxen hair, large inquisitive blue eyes, bronze-hued skin and crumpled navy tunic even Merlin was feeling the urge to fuss over the boy. Again in this boy, Merlin could see the similarities between him and Arthur. The hair, the colour of the eyes, the nose, even the shape of the ears, though his face seemed rounder and his eyes seemed more almond-shaped. Then there was that strange connection Merlin felt with the boy, the sense of familiarity, the pull. It was odd but the dark-haired warlock couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Next there was the girl. She was the second eldest after Llacheu, Merlin presumed, judging from her height. She was almost the same height as Llacheu, perhaps an inch or so shorter, but nearly a whole head taller than Amhar; about thirteen years old, he guessed. She was still garbed in that fine dress from yesterday, pale blue velvet with a lilac petticoat, though it was creased and dulled as though she'd slept in it (which, to be honest, she probably had). Her hair was in a right state. Most of it was still caught up in that ridiculously complex braid but wisps of it were sticking out everywhere and one side was completely flattened, giving her a rather untidy edge. He even noticed a few crushed flowers amongst the scattering of sparkly pins amongst the blonde mess on her scalp. Realising what their stares were directed at, Seren lifted a hand and protectively patted her head, shooting a quick glare at the men. Yep, Merlin thought to himself, that was Arthur. Her relation to the king was less pronounced in her appearance than it was in her brothers' and unlike Llacheu and Gwydre, her eyes were a warm chocolate brown instead of blue. The resemblance was still there, though, in the woven gold of her hair and prominent cheekbones but there was something softer, more feminine about her. Her skin retained the same exotic hue as her brothers' and, in the back of his mind, Merlin began to believe that this was their natural skin tone; the sun had nothing to do with it. In a funny way she reminded him of Morgana, both the only female Pendragons of their generation and both ravishing beauties. In a few years time, Merlin was sure men would be pursuing Seren as they had Morgana. Yet at the same time, the two were impossibly different: Morgana was the moon, all snow white skin and cold green eyes and ebony hair like the night; Seren, in comparison, was the sun, everything about her was warm. It was a funny contrast that the manservant couldn't help but notice.

Then there was Amhar, the third child. He was different from his siblings in the sense that he resembled the king the least. His skin was also bronze, if not a little darker than Seren, Gwydre and Llacheu's and his hair was darker too, short with a slight curl to it than may have been more pronounce were it longer. His eyes were the same chocolate colour as Seren's and equally almond-shaped, framed by long dark eyelashes. Arthur was in his features too, upon close inspection, he had the king's chine and his forehead but, like Gwydre, his face was rounder and held the softer quality that Seren's possessed. For a moment an image flickered in Merlin's mind, of Gwen's pretty, tearstained face as she hauled her cart out of Camelot, but it quickly vanished and Merlin shook his head, not quite sure what had come over him. He looked at Amhar again but no epiphany struck him, all he could see was a boy who looked a bit like Arthur with a passing resemblance to a friend now banished. Deep in his heart he hoped maybe there was something more but it was doubtful, at least until he had solid evidence. Cautiously he glanced over at Arthur, whose eye also remained on Amhar for a fair while before moving back to Llacheu.

"I believe you," he said finally.


	7. The Citadel

**Echo: I LIVE! But for how long? I'm worry now. Please don't let a bunch of ax-wielding maniacs turn up at my door in the middle of the night. I know I haven't updated in a year but I can atone for my sins, I can!**

**Goldfish: Ax-wielding maniacs will turn up either way. It is destined.**

**Echo: Magical talking goldfish don't double as prophets, do they?**

**Goldfish: Yes, yes we do.**

**Echo: Nice try. Anyway, I know it's been ages but I've been really, really busy this last year and haven't been able to update but I promise that I will complete this story. Have no fear!**

* * *

><p><strong>Magic in Time<strong>

**Chapter 7**

**~ The Citadel ~**

The days passed slowly for the Pendragon children. Following their initial, awkward interaction, their father avoided them like the plague. Gwydre was frustrated by his siblings' prohibition of magic and would spend the evenings inquiring after their missing mother, occasionally flying into the wailing tantrums that all young children are prone to; and Pendragon children were exceptionally bad.

Seren could merely hold him as he cried; never having the heart to tell him that it was Arthur who had sent Gwen away.

Llacheu and Amhar spent their early days in the castle plotting pranks against Agravaine, though their attempts at humiliating the traitor often failed quite spectacularly. Soon they found another way to entertain themselves: watching the knights' training sessions. The knights did not share the king's awkwardness regarding his future offspring and eventually the boys were even allowed to join in the sessions, with the knights coaching them through the basics of combat. Sometimes Seren would watch them, and the wilder part of her longed to join in but she was loath to leave Gwydre on his own, lest anyone discover his secret. She did not even dare to tell Merlin.

Merlin. Why had he not come for them yet? Every morning she awoke expecting him to arrive – perhaps in the guise of Emrys, loudly proclaiming himself as 'Dragoon the Great' – to tell them that he was here to take them home. Already over a month had gone by. He could not have forgotten about them, surely. Had he? And mother and father- No, of course not. It was just taking time, that was all. Time travel defied nature, after all.

She could only pray they would be rescued before Beltane.

"Lady Seren?"

She turned from the window to face Corsen, a pallid young woman of around seventeen who had been assigned as her maidservant. She was pleasant enough, if somewhat dull company, and didn't seem to mind serving a girl several years her junior. Seren crossed to the vanity and sat down, instructing Corsen to fix her long hair into a tight braid. As she crossed the room, the maid spared a short, vaguely disapproving glance at the little boy still asleep in Seren's large bed. With the occasional exception of married couples, the nobility did not generally share quarters.

"It is unseemly, I know," Seren told her, "but we were so recently orphaned… He still misses our parents – bless their souls – and he is so young… He will not sleep without my company, it reminds him of mother, I think…"

It was not wholly a lie, and acting came quite naturally to Seren so it was easy to feign the grief in her voice. Corsen's eyes softened and her grip on Seren's hair became gentler; it was the only comfort she could offer the young girl still recovering from the sudden deaths of her parents.

That's who she was now, after all. Lady Seren Tremont, the recently orphaned daughter of minor nobles, far removed relatives of the Pendragons who shied away from the courtly life and kept to the country. Her family's estate had been burnt to the ground in a tragic fire, of which she and her brothers had been the only survivors. With no immediate relatives they were now wards of Camelot, residing in the citadel at King Arthur's charity.

As Corsen, finally discovering her tongue, began babbling about the king's generosity, extending his hospitality to orphaned children, Seren found her thoughts drifting back to their earlier focus.

When was Merlin coming to get them? Should she ask this Merlin for help? No – that was a stupid idea. If the Merlin some sixteen years in the future could not perform the spell then it was unlikely this one would be able to reverse it. He might end up accidently sending them back to Uther's reign where they'd be executed for sure! Even if they were believed, from what she'd heard of the man, Seren did not trust that Uther would not execute his own grandson if he were to discover Gwydre's abilities. Oh, this was a mess! They'd simply have to bide their time and hope Merlin would come for them before Morgana and Agravaine's coup.

These worries continued to plague the young princess and she stood up and let Corsen help her dress. Once she was laced up she politely dismissed the maid and went to awaken her brother. When they were both finally ready she asked if he wanted to watch the knights train the new recruits.

It was almost midday by the time they reached the training yard. Llacheu and Amhar had already been up for hours and were leaning far over the fence, cheering and hollering as Gwaine brought down a massive bear of a man, bigger even than Percival, though much clumsier.

"Where've you been?" Amhar asked as they approached.

"Avoiding Camelot's noblewomen," Seren replied with a scowl, "they keep inviting me to join their embroidery sessions."

Amhar made a face and turned back to the knights, just in time to see Gwaine deliver the finishing blow.

"That was good!" Seren noted excitedly as another hopeful took the place of the fallen bear-man, looking distinctly fearful as the renowned knight smirked.

"I could've done it faster," Llacheu boasted arrogantly.

"Oh, really?" Seren rolled her eyes, far too used to her brother's ridiculous claims to ever take him seriously.

"I am a killing machine," the prince proclaimed and immediately doubled over as Amhar's elbow collided with his gut, much to the amusement of his siblings. During this exchange they had completely missed the fight – which was over as soon as it had begun – and looked over to find Sir Gwaine standing directly in front of them.

"'Ultimate killing machine'? Now where have I heard that one before?"

Beside his grinning sister, Llacheu was slowly turning red.

"Care to prove it, little prince?"

It had not been Llacheu intention to end up in the ring with Gwaine. All he had done was protest against the knight's 'little' comment and he was suddenly witnessing the world upside down as he was tossed over Gwaine's shoulder and unceremoniously dumped on the grass and handed a wooden sword.

Gwaine had the clear advantage. He was both bigger and stronger, not to mention far more experienced, than the fourteen-year-old prince, and Llacheu found himself on his back, disarmed, in half a minute, looking up into Gwaine's smirking face.

However, just as he was reaching down to help the boy up, the prestigious knight was unexpectedly blindsided by a tackle from Amhar. Llacheu instantly sprung to his feet, barrelling into him from the front. Even Seren in her long dress and petticoats had somehow leapt onto his back, helping her brothers drag him down. Soon all the knights gathered cheering around a royal pile with Sir Gwaine at the bottom, and none were laughing harder than Elyan, Leon and Percival – the traitors.

This was how Arthur and Merlin found them.

"What's going on here?" the king demanded, pushing past the knights to get through. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't a training session. The sight of Gwaine rolling in the grass being smothered by his… children, however, took him by complete surprise.

"I-" he tried to speak but something about the sight – the ridiculousness of it? The heartfelt warmth? – stirred something inside of him… Beside him, Merlin clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Have mercy! I surrender!" Gwaine cried as the Pendragons finally relinquished their grip. Noticing Arthur and Merlin, the five of them quickly got to their feet.

"Sire," Gwaine bowed his head, the contrite in his voice and body language betrayed by the grin on his face.

"Gwaine," Arthur acknowledged, not even bothering to ask about what he had just witnessed. It was Gwaine, after all. "Llacheu, Amhar, Gwydre. Seren."

"My lord," the four honoured their sovereign with the unfamiliar form of address. Amhar had push Gwydre's shoulder to get him to bow with the rest of them.

Arthur then turned to his most trusted knights. "Leon, Elyan, Percival, we're going on patrol. Merlin, prepare the horses."

"Yes, sire."

"Can I come?" it slipped out before Llacheu could stop it. In an instant all eyes were upon him. This orphan boy, only fourteen years old, had the gall to ask to accompany the king and his knights on patrol?

"We'll be going into the woods. There'll be bandits. It's too dangerous."

"But you're taking_ Merlin_."

Everyone, including Arthur, froze. Was Llacheu actually _questioning _his king? Among the knights there was a mutter of "little upstart". Though he did have a point, the boy was probably better with a sword than the manservant. Everyone knew Merlin couldn't wield a weapon to save his life.

Arthur opened his mouth to respond but Gwaine beat him to it.

"Oh, let the boy come," he ruffled Llacheu's dark hair, "it would do him good to get know the land instead of being holed up in the city."

Eventually Arthur agreed and Llacheu winked at his jealous siblings before trotting off after the knights.

"Fetch us another horse, Merlin," Leon told the warlock as the group reached the stables.

"A pony maybe," Gwaine suggested.

"I don't need a pony!" Came the indignant response.

"A small one."

With a small smile and an exaggerated sigh Merlin went to saddle another horse for Arthur's son – yes, this kid was definitely Arthur's son. He had not spent much time around the children, not that he made any attempt to seek them out but they seemed rather keen on avoiding him, he could not escape the feeling that they were hiding something. At least this ride would give him the opportunity to talk to one of them.

Llacheu, on the other hand, was just glad to be out of the castle.

* * *

><p><strong>Echo: And that is the last of the filler! We are finally onto actual episodes! Anyway, I suppose this story is AU now... Series 5... I'm not sure you and I will ever quite see eye to eye.<strong>


End file.
